Oh Sunday

You Look Good on Me dept.

3 Poems

Your great capacity

To detect weakness

And exploit it

May be a skill,

But a poem

It is not.

And as much

As I despise you

I pity you

All the more.

Ruth, Mays,

Jackie, Koufax,

Ohtani—it’s hard

To say for sure

Who my favorite

Ballplayer is.

But my all-time

Favorite Pope?

That’s easy.

It’s you, ya big

Chicago lug,

With your Luzinski

White Sox jersey

Underneath your vestal robes

And your love of tennis

And your rumored

Love of jazz

And your unapologetic

Embrace of the

Word “woke.”

I probably won’t convert,

But if I did

It’s cause of you,

Ya big lug,

My all-time fave Pope.

My friend Herter

Has a new hip

So we went for

A walk

Around his neighborhood

To give it a test run.

He walked straight

And without a limp

And with no pain

And he told amazing stories

That made me forget

That we were giving

His new hip

A test run.

Here is one of my favorite singer-songwriters singing “On Sunday.” She has used various names through her life, but she was Liz Byrnes when she sang this, so we’ll go with that.

And finally, here’s one called “I Wish Every Day Was Sunday.” (partial)

Enjoy your Sunday.